


Jailbait

by singingsin



Category: Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-13
Updated: 2014-07-19
Packaged: 2018-01-24 14:43:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 15,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1608884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/singingsin/pseuds/singingsin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Amy Holden is just a normal girl. She has a job, will be going to college in the fall and has pretty awesome living arrangement with her big sister and her sisters gruff, but charmingly awkward boyfriend. All in all, life is pretty ordinary. That is, until she meets Merle. Then things take an odd sort of twist that Amy never saw coming.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Merle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The chapter in which the scene is set.

It's the first time she's ever been to a jail.

It's not as bad as she'd imagined truthfully. It reminds a little bit of her of high-school actually. Minus all the bars, and angry looking guys in sweats. No, scratch that. There had been plenty of angry looking guys at school too, just differently dressed.

"Stay close Amy." Andrea says, through all the cat calls and howling. As soon as they had stepped into the hall, a roar had traveled from each cell. There were woman in the building, two pretty little blondes. Andrea ignored it, probably immue to all but the worst of it by now, and even then, she hardly even flinched. She was a lawyer after all. She spent a fair amount of time here in comparison to some people. And Amy...well, Amy was just tagging along, her curiosity getting the best of her. Andrea had flat out said no at first, but Amy was good at getting what she wanted and eventually Andrea had grudgingly given in.

She's having second thoughts about her stellar idea now though, determined as she is to see it through. Curse her curiosity! She could be at home reading while waiting patiently for Andrea and Merle. But no! She had to come too, and so here she is, trying her best to imitate Andreas aloofness although it's clearly not something one can simply imitate on a mere whim.

Not when the prisoners are taunting her, yelling inappropriate things and making rude gestures...her cheeks have been flaming since she walked onto the cell floor. It's not that she wasn't used to this kind of thing. Unwanted attention sort of went with the territory of being a female. It was just rather alot to deal with in such a large quantity. When they finally get to the cell they're looking for, she can't help but let out a small sigh of relief.

M. Dixon, the name card outside the door read. Daryl's brother.

Soon to be family, Amy thought hopefully. Daryl was Andrea's boyfriend, and honestly she couldn't be happier about the arrangement. She had liked Daryl from the beginning. He was so different from the type of guy Andrea usually went for, so much rougher around the edges. But he was kind, in a gruff way, and charming. Scruffy. Plus, he absolutely adored Andrea, even if he didnt say it in so many words. He made her sister smile, and that was good enough for her. If she had any, she would bet money in them getting married.

But Merle. She had never met Merle, only heard of him. He was like a mythological creature from one of her books, discussed often in frevrent whispers, but rarely seen. He'd been locked up here for a while now (nobody would tell her what for though) and he'd finally gotten released for good behavior, which was, apparently, a miracle.

Andrea had taken his case immediately.

Amy took that as a good sign. Andrea didn't do things like that for just anyone. It may have been for Daryls sake, but Amy liked the idea that maybe the mysterious Merle had grown a bit on her sister. At least that was what Amy was inclined to thin. Although, it could just be her imagination. She was a sucker for happy endings, and what ending could be happier but a happy family? That's what she wants for Andrea, more than anything in the world. And maybe this Merle might be a key player in that happily ever after.

She peers in the cell, over Andreas shoulder, as the guard rattles the door bars with his baton.

"Dixon! Your rides here." He says loudly, and the surrounding cells go crazy. Apparently, Merle wasn't well liked here. Or maybe he was really popular? Its hard to tell, there are so many voices adding to the din.

A face appears, rough, weathered. Mean looking. Instictively Amy wants to take a step back, to put a little distance between her and Merle, but she pushes down the instinct in order to get a good look. Is this really Daryls brother? They look nothing alike! His eyes find hers through the bars suddenly, and her heart skips a beat. There. He and Daryl have the same eyes. Although different too. Daryls eyes are prone to being averted. Merles are not. He looks straight at her, unabashed, and she feels heat spread through her limbs.

"Hey there, sugartits." He growls at Andrea, although it seems to be said in affection. Andreas face doesn't move. "Ya brought me some sweet little thang, eh? Some jailbait fer old Merle? How kind." The look of lust is clear on his face.

Andrea frowns, her hackles rising a bit. Andrea is very protective of her. "This is Amy. My sister, Merle. Possibly your future sister too," Andrea huffs disdainfully, and then, realizing what shes implied, blushes a bit.

Merles face splits into a grin. "A little sister huh? Neva had a real one. Darylina was the closest. Used ta dress him up in some old girls clothes every once in a while. Back when we was real young. When I got bored."

Amy giggles. The image of Daryl in a dress flits through her mind. Even Andreas stoic facade slips a little, as she cracks a small smile. A friendly atmosphere established, the guard opens the door and Merle shuffles out. Now, Amy does give into instinct, and takes a step back. He's huge! Then again, she's tiny, so maybe its just the difference in stature, but he really seems like some hulking giant to her. Like he could pick her up in the palm of his hand, like she was some tiny porcelin doll...

Andrea subtly places herself between Amy and Merle, and they retrace their steps to the entrance again. The cats calls are still being thrown at her and Andrea, and although shes doing her best, shes can feel herself start to shrink a bit, like she'd disappear from their sight if that were possible. Just as she starts to pick up her pace, Merle hollers at them, one loud echoing growl of 'shut up!'

And surprisingly, they do. Andrea shakes her head, and the guard frowns, raising a questioning eyebrow. Merle simply shrugs in answer.

"I heard these guys do that every time a chick walked on in here. Had enough." He mumbles, and Amy starts to think maybe she might like Merle. He seems...like a challenge. And the Holden girls certainly did like a challenge.


	2. Coming Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The chapter in which Amy welcomes Merle home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, this is like the shortest chapter. Longer ones to come.

It doesnt take Andrea any time at all to whisk them out of the prison building. She's got the paperwork done in five minutes flat, flourishing her signature here, here and here. Merles writing next to it is crampped, an elegible scrawl in comparison, that Amy catches Andrea scowling at slightly. Little things like that tend to bug her to no end, and Amy can't help but smirk while the guard hands over Merles meager bag of possesions. 

The drive home is uncomfortably silent, not even the radio providing any sort of comfort, and she can tell that everyone is relieved when they finally spot the nearly invisible turn off and turn up the gravel road leading to the property. 

The house is dark and empty, when at last they pull in the driveway. Daryl clearly isn't home yet from work yet, and vaguley Amy recalls him mentioning something about a big work load today. It's Spring, so all the animals are just coming out of hibernation, and there's been a burst of Springtime activity. Mating. Nest and burrow building. Trash cans to knock over and attics to raid. He had a large quantity of squirrel, raccoons and possums on the docket today. The very idea of Daryls job sends a queasy shiver down her back.

"Amy, can you show Merle up to his room? He hasn't been here since we moved in." Andrea asks, distracting her from picturing Daryl at work. She agrees gratefully.

"Ok! Come on." She chirps, following Andrea into the front hall. Merle just peers inside warily, looking around the living room like he's never seen it before. Probably because he hasn't.

When the boys dad died, Daryl had hesitantly given the girls free rein of the house. He had quite a chunk of money saved up too, and he'd given a good bit of it to them to play with. They had ended up renovating nearly everything but the basic structure. The house looked pretty good now, even Daryl agreed, and after nearly a year, it's finally starting to feel like home.

Amy skips up the stairs, glancing behind her to make sure Merle hasn's strayed. the stairs groan quietly under his weight, and again, it strikes Amy just how actually large and heavy Merle is in comparison to her.

"That's Daryl and Andreas room," she says when they reach the upstairs landing, and she points to the white door at the end of the hall. "The door with the A on it is mine," she smiles, and he grunts. "We share the jack and jill bathroom between our rooms," she mentions, wondering how clean it is, and thinking she may have to pick up some of her dirty clothes up off the floor before he uses it. "And the room beside it is yours! We renovated it for you of course, just basic stuff. It hasn't really been touched since Daryl moved your stuff into it though." He peeks into the room, and nods gruffly, seemingly satisfied. 

"You always this chirpy?" Merle asks with a sidelong glance at her, shrugging his dufflebag into the room.

"Most of the time," she admits. "You'll get used to it." She hesitates a moment, before suddenly standing on her tiptoes to give him a kiss on the cheek. He manages not to jerk away, but barely, and Amy can see the look of surprise flit over his face before it disappears. Interesting, is all she can think, and a seed of affection plants itself in her chest. 

"Welcome home I guess," she says shyly, and slips into her room before Merle has a chance to react.


	3. Fairytales and Filthy Happenings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The chapter that Amy realizes she wants more

Amy is laying on her bed, on her stomach, flipping the worn pages of a thick novel. A tome is actually a better description of it. This one of her favorite books, a massive collection of fairy tales from around the world. She's always had a thing for fairy tales, ever since she was a child. Call it a hobby, call it an obsession, call it whatever you like. The lore, mythology and sheer multitude of different places she can be transported to is delightfully staggering, and she usually speds her weekends like this, curled up and lost in her own little world.

She's doing just exactly that when a loud moan cuts through her concentration like a warm knife through butter. She sighs and sends an baleful glare at the wall that separates her room from Merles.

Merle has been home for just over a month, and Amy has quickly found out that he has an uncanny gift for charming women. Women that would ever give him the time of day normally all of a sudden find themselves draped across his lap. Amy finds it both facinationg and disgusting, but she can't deny that he's good at it. Very, _very_ good at it. And from what shes heard, muffled through the wall between them, Merle's good at all sorts of things. But the bottom line is, that when he turns it on, it's like his tongue is gilded with honey, and no female can seem to resist him.

Unfortunately, that includes her as well.

Somewhere along the line, Amy has, ashamedly, fallen for Merle. She knows its wrong. So wrong. Monumentallywrong, for so many reasons. He's mean. He's old enough to be her father. He doesn't give a _shit_ about anyone he fucks. And the most pressing issue, is that he's virtually family, Daryls brother for gods sake.

She doesn't know what she sees in him at all.

But maybe, she's often thought to herself, just maybe, it's the same thing that Andrea saw in Daryl. A sliver of something redeemable, enough to make her stop and dig further. Amy doesn't deny that, all in all, he's a cruel, stubborn bastard. But there's something else there too, something good. Something that just needs a little coaxing...

At the moment though, he's giving her cause for headache, because she's almost certain that the girl in there with him, is Haley from work. Haley is a sort of taboo topic in the house. She's been chasing Daryl since high school, as far as Amy can piece out, and the first time she met Andrea, she nearly scratched her eyes out. Haley can't seem to figure out that she has no chance with Daryl, and to say Andrea dislikes her would be the understatement of the year. Daryls patience for her is wearing thin too, and goodness knows that no one wants to be on Daryls bad side.

Amy is on the fence though. Haley at work is different from the Haley who won't stop pestering her family. Although Haley knows Amy is Andreas sister, she's never really seemed to hold it against her. She's nice enough, and she taught Amy the ropes at the grocery store where they work. And she has the best gossip in town, which in a town as small as this one is, is worth it's weight in gold. Ugh, some of the things their neighbours got up to....

However, the fact that she's been over fairly often lately, and just generally being obnoxious inbetween her and Merles loud sex marathons, is swaying Amy's netural opinion of her towards the negative.

She's only doing it to agitate Andrea and Daryl in the first place, but its starting to fray Amy's nerves too. They aren't even home right now! She's so frustrated and confused when it comes to Merle, that she can't stand being jealous of Haley too. 

Closing her book with an irritated thud, she quirks her head and listens, relieved that it seems to have quieted down again while she was considering the issue. She lets out a sigh, and rolls off her bed. It's probably safe enough to sneak downstairs. Maybe a snack will take her mind off this. She opens the door and nearly runs face first into the one person she doesn't want to see right now, especially considering that she's spent more than enough time today listening to her voice through the wall,  moaning and begging Merle, ' _faster, faster, 'harder, deeper!_ '

"Oh…uh, h-hi Amy." Haley manages to stutter, her face flushing red. She seems embarrassed, the shade of red getting deeper and deeper, and Amy feels a tedril of satisfaction curl through her.

"Hi Haley." Amy says, breaking the silence, as the satisfaction is swept away by a stab of jealousy. Briefly she entertains the idea of being cruel, embarrassing Haley further somehow, but being vindictive is not in her nature. The two woman stand there, awkwardly, shuffling from foot to foot.

"Uh...bye?" Haley tries, and grudgingly, Amy smiles, as Haley makes a speedy break down the stairs, and out the front door.

Amy isn't hungry anymore.

Instead, she follows a whim, and turning on her heels, pounds her fist on Merles door, hoping that she's scared the shit out of him. She doesn't know what she's doing, what she's going to say, but she's gotta do something. It has to better than sitting around doing nothing…right? He needs to know that she's got some boundaries that he's got to respect!

Just as she's second guessing her rash decision, the door in front of her opens up, and Merle is in front of her.

Naked.

"Came back fer more did ya? Well…." Merle stops, looking down at Amy. She's fairly certain her face is beet red all the way up to the roots of her hair. Worst of all, she's not sure what she should be doing with her eyes. Of course, they're drawn down, towards the dark mess of hair…and other things… between his legs. She does manage to resist the urge to hide her eyes behind her hands. She's not a little kid anymore…it's just she wasn't really expecting to get caught in this situation.So for now, its all she can do, her body frozen in shock.

Merle looks like he doesn't know what to do either. He looks at her, than down at himself, and then back at her. The smirk on his face dies a little, and Amy can almost see it as his brain turns the gears, putting together all the information.

Its not Haley at his door.

It's _Amy_.

And he's naked.

In front of _Amy_.

Not Haley.

 _Amy_.

He pales a bit, and shuts the door in her face.

Slowly, so as not to fall over or something equally as embarrassing and stupid, she walks back into her room, and shuts the door. She sits down on the bed, placing a hand to her mouth. Unbidden, a giggle seeps through her fingers. And then another. And another. And before she realizes it, she's laughing so hard she's nearly crying. In an odd way, she's happy this happened. Embarrassed, but happy. At least she can use this for visualization later tonight.

_Oh my god._

She hides her head in her hands. She _cannot believe_ she just considered that! Visualizing _Merle_ when she's _touching herself_ …

A shiver runs through her body, but she can't tell if its from disgust or excitement. Before she can even start to sorting _that_ mess out, a knock on the door makes her jump halfway out of her skin.

"Amy? Baby girl? Can I…can I come in fer a second? Please?" Merles voice is muffled by the door. She freezes. What should she do now? She can't ignore him, he knows for a fact that she's there.

She debates. He'll probably just want to talk it over, make sure he hasn't traumatized her or something. She decides that it can't hurt.

"Come in," she says quietly, and she sits up properly on the edge of her bed. Merle walks in cautiously, now wrapped in a ratty old robe, and he closes the door behind him. He sits down on the bed beside her, and she's suddenly very aware of being this close to him, in an empty house, with her door closed. Her heart pounds against her ribcage.

"Look," he starts, but before Amy can argue herself out of it, she jerks forward, cutting him off by placing her lips on his. He's surprised, thrown off by this, and it gives her a chance to get a good hold on him, her arms wrapping around his neck, as she scoots herself into his lap. His lips are chapped, but warm, and when she runs her tongue over them experimentlly, they reflexively open to admit her.

This is a lot easier than she expected, and she's not sure whether to be scared or over the moon.

She doesn't really knowing where this has come from, but she lets her instincts take over, straddles his lap. She's beginning to grind her hips down against his, the friction sending delicious shivers down her spine, when Merle finally manages to come to his senses.

"Hey, hey whoa now," he says, pulling his face away from hers. He looks flushed, and his eyes are slightly glazed over, but they're clearing up rapidly. "Hey. Little girl. Now ya know that this is wrong, right? You…we… can't do this. Yer as good as family now…." he trails off. She pouts, a lot more hurt by the words than she should be. She wants this, she realizes suddnely. She really, really wants this!  She's having a a moment of intense clarity. 

The only thing thats been holding her back from this exact situation has been herself.

Amy intends on clearing that up right now. She reaches underneath Merles robe and grabs his dick, which, much to her satisfaction, is already hardening. She gives it a gentle tug and Merle groans. He shakes his head, clearly fighting against the urge to give in, and he must win, or at least panic, because they next thing she knows, he's dumped her unceremoniously back onto her bed, and he's up and backing towards the door

"Christ, get off! Yer gonna be the death of me. Andrea and Daryl would literally beat me to death if they saw this!" he shakes his head, and disappears out the door, leaving her sitting there alone.


	4. A Stroke Of Good Luck

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The chapter that, much to Amys delight, Merle gets screwed over in

Merle has been avoiding her.

For the past two weeks, he's done absolutely everything within his power to avoid her, which considering the space with which he has to work with, is not an easy task. He's been especially careful to not be home alone with her since that night in her room, and seeing as he's got no job, and isn't allowed to leave the state of Geoprgia because of his criminal record.... lets just say Amy would be impressed if she weren't so annoyed.

Actually, it would be downright comical if it were under different circumstances.

He peeks into rooms before entering. Makes sure to drag Daryl or Andrea into rooms with him, when he knows she's there. He makes ridiculous excuses to get out of driving her places. The other day, out of the coner of her eye, she saw him slip out of the kitchen onto the back porch just before she walked into the room. A 5'10" 200 pound man, and he _ran away_ from her! If she weren't so frustrated she might have died laughing at the very idea of him running away from her.

He treats her like she has the god damn plague, and Amy's had quite enough of it.

She's determined now, to get him where she wants him, and she always gets what she wants. That first taste of his lips on hers might as well have been a drug, because shes addicted all the same. She wants more, so much more, and Merle _will_ give it up, if it's the last thing she ever does.

So she bides her time as patiently as she can, waiting for an opportunity to strike. And three weeks later it does.

"I have to go to Florida for a week," Andrea says during dinner one night. Merle doesn't seem too perturbed by this, until Daryl speaks up. "I'm goin'with her," he adds. Merle nearly chokes on a forkful of rice. Amy finds this slightly alarming, but weeks of the cold shoulder makes it more than amusing enough that she doesn't feel quite as bad as she maybe should.

"What?! Why?!," Merle protests quickly, coughing as he catches his breath and Daryl gives him a glare.

"I have to finish closing the deal on the condo," Andrea says, matter-of-factly, "and Daryl's coming with me to help Dale with a project. You got a problem with that?"

"Yeah! You expect me ta baby-sit Amy while yer gone, dontcha?" Merle says, and Amy thinks she can hear a note of panic in his voice. She smirks.

"Well she can't just stay here all alone! What if something were to happen? Amy may need you." Andrea points out, and Daryl agrees with a grunt.

"Yeah," Amy says, sugary sweet, "I may _need_ you." She knows she's being a brat, but even so, she's enjoying the look on his face. No one else at the table will understand the innuendo and knowing it will make him sweat just a little more is worth it. She's having a bit of fun at his expense, harmless really, and he'll forgive her if he would _just give in_.

Which he will.

After a moment, Merle seems to realize his situation. If he says no, he may have to explain his reasons why, and he has no intentions of doing that. That will get him in more trouble than he knows how to deal with. He has to say yes, but he knows that once he does, he'll be well and truly fucked, in more ways than one if Amy has her way. He'll be stuck with her, all alone, for an entire week. 

"Fine," he says tightly, "when ya leaving?"

"Tomorrow." Daryl grumbles, looking from his brother to her and back to Merle again, trying to figure out the atmosphere between the two of them. He raises an eyebrow in suspicion, but chooses to quietly continue eating. Merle just huffs, and Amy picks up her fork again as well, a serene smile sliding onto her face. By this time tomorrow, things will much, _much_ different. She looks across the table at Merle, who looks like he wants the earth to swallow him up, and her smile grows.

This is going to be a _very interesting_ week indeed.


	5. Black SIlk and Lace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The chapter in which Amy gets her way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry i posted this a little late! i was really busy this weekend! Anyways, enjoy the chappter!

The following morning, Amy is up early, enjoying having the entire house to herself, silent and still. Everyone else left hours ago, Merle offering to driving Andrea and Daryl to the airport to catch their morning flight so he can drive the truck home.

Amy estimates he won't come home right away, what with the drive to Atlanta being about two hours there, and two hours back. He's probably nervous, expecting her to try soemthing,(which is accurate) so she figures he'll drag out the trip home as long as he possibly can. He'll most likely stop off at a bar somewhere along the way, spend a couple of hours drinking, possibly even getting high. She's expecting that. In fact, she would prefer him in some sort of inebriated state, because that's when he's most open to suggestion. She's seen Daryl convince him to do the most ridiculous things while he's been drunk, including climbing up a towering Oak to try and catch a squirrel. She had cringed when he fell out of the tree, but he had seemed no worse for wear, just a couple gigantic bruises and a cut or two, thank god. Apparently, according to Daryl, he's done stupider things.

The only thing that could put a kink in her plans is if he happens to bring a woman home with him, but for some reason, call it intuition, she doesn't think he will.

She practically skips down the stairs to the kitchen, hedr good mood getting the best of her. Her plan could fail miserably for all she knows, but shes just too elated thats shes getting this opportunity to care about the possible outcome. She hums tunelessly to herself as she pours a glass of orange juice and pops a bagel into the toaster, a wide smile spread across her face. She runs over her plan again, for probably the dozenth time since she heard the truck pull down the drive.

Basically, she's going to lull him in to a false sense of security.

She'll make dinner, act completely normal. Study a little, watch some TV. Leave Merle alone. She'll brush her teeth and go off to bed at the usual time. Wait until he's in bed, his door locked so she can't get in. A completely innocuous night.

But from there things will go exactly as she wants them.

She finishes her bagel, puts her glass in the sink, and goes back up to her room. Despite the empty house, she closes her door behind her before heading to the closet.  She digs until she sees the black plastic bag in the back and grasping it, she gives a firm tug, freeing it from a pile of shoes. Taking the bag to the bed, she upends it, the contents spilling out with a soft plastic rustle.

A silky black nightgown with matching lace panties lay on the bed, the fabric catching the morning sunlight from her window, making it shimmer slightly. She runs her fingers over it; she bought it a couple weeks ago, with just this intention in mind.

She was going to seduce Merle, give him no other options.

Also among the black silk and lace, are several boxes of condoms. Ribbed for pleasure, lubricated, extra thin for a better sensation. She's especially looking forward to trying the fruit flavoured ones. Heat rises in her cheeks at the thought, and her stomach churns in excitement. A glimmer catches her eye and she picks out a little silver key from the mess. This was the best find, by far.

When they had done the renovations, Andrea had wanted to make sure that each room had new locks on door. She was a big advocate for privacy, and Amy had really been the only person for the job, as Daryl had been exiled to the back porch since he lost not one, but both sets of Andreas meticulously drawn blueprits. So, she had been the one to get all the new keys cut, and so when she had gone to the hardware store it had struck her as a good idea to get doubles made, just in case. Andrea had stored the extra keys in the junk drawer in the kitchen, where they had been promptly forgotten.

Except Amy hadn't forgotten. And now it's sitting safely in the back of her closet, the same place it's been for the past week or so since inspiration struck her.

She kills the rest of the day doing random, mindless tasks, anything to distract her from the length of the day, which feels like it's slowed to a painful crawl. She vacuum's, puts away all the dishes in the dishwasher. Has lunch. Does all the laundry. Reads for a couple hours, and makes and eats dinner. Merle still isn't home at 10:30, so she has a shower, and goes to bed, reading until the alarm on her bedside table says 11:47. Yawning, she finally turns off her light, deciding that she can afford to take a nap.

The sound of heavy feet and Merles bedroom door closing is what wakes her up. She glances at the clock; it's just after 2am.

She rubs at her eyes, and stretches, refreshed, although she's only been asleep for a little over two hours. The thought of finally getting Merle alone wakes her up fully, a queasy excitement and desire uncurling from around her spine. She strains her ears, trying to hear if he's alone or if he's brought someone home, but all is quiet and she decides that it's safe.

A wide smile slides onto her face, as she gets up stealthily. She clicks on her bedside lamp, light chasing away the darkness in her room and blinding her temporarily. She stands there for a moment, blinking rapidly, squinting against the brightness until her eyes finally adjust. Lightly, she tiptoes to her open closet, and fishes out the bag from where she returned it earlier. She strips out of her pyjama sweats and tank top, discarding her bra and panties onto the top of the pile, and shimmies into the nightgown, the silk cool and soft against her skin. She pulls up the panties, and takes a look in the full length mirror on her door.

Her hair is sleep tousled, and her eyes are wide and blue. She licks her lips, and smoothes the fabric over her hips. She practices a coy smile and the reflection in the mirror transforms into someone she doesn't know. Someone older. Someone sexy, and confident and undeniably desirable.

She picks up the bag again, digs through it until she finds the key, and pads out to the hallway, the bag clenched to her stomach. She presses her ear to the rough wood of the door and holds her breath. All she hears are light snores and the pancked fluttering of her own heart. She gently tries the door handle. Locked, but she knew it would be. Quietly, she slips the key into the lock, and twists. She cringes, the sound grating and so very loud to her, and she's afraid she'll wake up Merle and lose the advantage of surprise. The lock clicking open sounds thunderous. But the snores continue, unbroken, even as she gently pushes the door ajar and peeks in.

Merle has left the window open, and a cool breeze greets her when she finally steps into the moonlit room. She allows her eyes a moment to adjust, locating the sleeping mass that is Merle. Sighing softly, she tries to calm down, loking around Merles room for the first time. He doesn't have much furniture in here. A single beat up dresser. A military style chest at the end of his bed. A couple of nightstands, hazardously stacked with a jumble of things that she can't quite make out. She quietly shuffles over to the pile of clothing by the side of the bed, and leans down to inspect it. She can make out jeans and socks, a jacket of some sort, no underwear though. A pity, she had hoped he slept without anything on; it certinly would have made this a bit easier. She looks up, eyes focusing on Merle, and takes a deep breath.

This is it. She's going to sleep with Merle, make him cry out her name. She's going to enjoy every minute of it, rough, gentle, whatever he wants. Her breathe hitches in her chest, but she ignores it, standing up and approaching the bed. She pulls back the blanket, and peeks at the sleeping form underneath.

Merle may be quite a bit older than her, well into his forties, but he doesn't have the body of an older man. He's still fairly fit, as much as he must have been at twenty. She bites her lip, a rush of nerves washing over her. Fortunately, Merle sleeps on his back, perfect for what she has planned. Pulling the blanket off further confirms her previous guess; he's only wearing boxers. She lets her eyes roam appreciatively, starting with his bare chest, following the trail of hair that starts there, snakes down to his belly button, and then disappears beneath the hem of his boxers.

She eases herself into bed with him, the heat coming off him sending a wave of pleasure down her spine.

She's so petite in comparison to him, and she's relying on that, hoping that he won't notice her weight until its too late. As quietly as she can manage, she places the bag of condoms down on the comforter, just withing reach. Before she can talk herself out of it, she slips a hand into his boxers, rests her head on his chest, and starts to pump him slowly. He gets hard quickly, and she watches his face, wondering if she's influencing his dream. She must be, because he smiles, and his hips start thrusting into her hand, at which point, she whispers silkily into his ear. "Wake up Merle. I need you. I need you so bad! Please, Merle, please…"

She lets go of his cock, and slides his boxers down to his knees. He's even bigger than she remembers, thick and hard, and a little thrill of ecitement, laced through with fear, shoots through her. She hesitantly leans forward to taste him, her tongue flicking over the head to taste the bead of precome there, before she takes him in her mouth. She can't fit all of him in her mouth, but she probably won't need to concern herself with that. Merle is already stirring, his breathing becoming shallower with each sweep of her tounge.

She reaches blindly for the black bag beside her, grabbing a box of condoms at random. Tearing it open, she pulls a condom free, and rips the packaging open hastily, her eyes darting back to Merle. She slips the rubber onto him just as he opens his eyes.

"What?," he says groggily, clearly still a little bit drunk. "Whose there?"

Amy slides up his body, pressing herself into him, a sense of serenity settling in her as she smiles at him. His eyes blink furiously, attempting to focus on her face in the meager light filtering in from his window. He scrubs a hand over his face, and squints.

"Amy? That you?" he says, growing more alert.

"Mhmm," she nods and her hand finds his cock again as she kisses him, forcing his lips open so her tongue can explore. He tastes like beer and barbeque sauce, and something else spiced, maybe whiskey? Merle breaks away from the kiss and sits up, clicking his beside lamp on. He looks her over in the light, her hair fanned across his pillow, and she runs a hand up her side, sliding the silk up to reveal the lace panties and creamy skin. He licks his lips.

"Amy, what the fuck!" he says scrambling to pull up his boxers.

"Merle, for the love of god, you better fuck me right now." she says indignantly, fear of rejection making her voice shake. He stops and looks at her, his expression unreadable.

"I can't! Yer like family! Christ Amy…you're. Fuck, yer making this hard!" he roars

"What?" she says, and her voice sounds petulant, like a child's, and she's immediately angry at herself. She huffs. "Look, Merle. I want this! God, I want it so bad! I want you so bad! I've wanted you since you started bringing Haley home! All I could think about when I would hear you guys is that it should have been me! Me and not her! Just fuck me already!" she says, and even to her, it sounds like shes pleading. Merle just looks at her, speechless.

A terse silence falls between them, and after what feels like an eternity, Amy feels her face flush with embarrasment. This was an idiotic idea. She move to get up, fighting the blanket that she's managed to, somehow, tangle herself up in. Tears well up in her eyes, threatening to spill over. She just feels so..so..so stupid! She manages to tumble out of the bed, but Merle catches her wrist before she gets too far, and pulls her back, his skin burning hot on hers.

"What! What do you want now?," she cries, and a tear slips down her cheek. And then Merles mouth is against hers, hard enough to bruise and hungry. His hands are everywhere, and Amy is overwhelmed. Shocked. A hand strokes her through the panties and he pushes them aside enough to slip a finger inside her. She gasps against his mouth, and her hips move encouragingly without even a thought. His other hand is up her nightgown, kneading her breasts, rolling a nipple between rough fingers. She protests as he takes his finger out of her, but he licks it clean, and barks out a laugh.

"Wanted to do that fer awhile," he says in a low growl, and he dips his head to nip at her neck, as he slips the panties off. She steps out of them, silently, and raises her arms so he can take the nightgown off as well, leaving her naked, goose bumps raising along her exposed skin. He kicks his boxers off, and his hands pick her up so she can wrap her legs around his waist. "Now Amy,  are ya sure 'bout this? Cause once I do this, there ain't no changing' yer mind," he says, eyes boring into hers. She nods once, without any hesitation and he nods back. He sinks into her, and she cries out.

It's not her first time. She hasn't been a virgin for a couple years, (college will do that) but it's been awhile, and Merle is probably the largest she's ever had. She'd be lying if she said it didn't hurt like hell. He fills her completely, and for a brief moment she's afraid he's going to break her. He presses her into the wall, pinning her, so he can thrust into her, and she moans, partially in pain, and partially in the pleasure that's very slowly beginning to hover around the edges. Then as quickly as it was there, the painful pressure disappears, Merle hitting an ideal angle. His mouth finds a breast, and his tongue rolls over her nipple. She arches against the wall, gasping as Merle sinks deeper, nearly bottoming out inside her.

It doesn't last as long as she wants. She's wound too tightly, the anticipation too much, and she comes hard, digging her Nails into his back and locking her legs around his waist tightly. He follows soon after her, and they still, their panting the only sound in the room. He slides out of her with a slick, wet sound, and sets her down gently, one arm steading her as they stumble to the bed.

"Sorry," he mumbles, "ya got me too excited. Usually last lot longer than that." She looks at him, and a giggle bubbles up, and he glares at her, a frown creasing his face.

"No, no! I'm not laughing at you, I swear! I was just…well, I was thinking the same thing! I was too excited! It didn't last long enough…" she trails off, and peeks at him, stretched out on his matress. "But… its nothing a little practice cant fix," she says softly, and Merle just laughs.


	6. Simon Says

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The chapter in which Amy learns to appreciate curtains

They agree to use the rest of the week to the absolute fullest they can.

They both understand that once Daryl and Andrea get home, this has to stop. Because they just can't risk it, being found out by their respective siblings. Shit would hit the fan, _hard_ , should that happen.

Merle calls the grocery, and speaks with Haley, tells her that Amy isn't feeling well, and it looks like she may be out for the entire week. If Amy weren't so preoccupied she might laugh, ruin the whole thing. As it is, she's barely concealing the loud little mewls of pleasure as she bounces on Merles lap, ridig him with enthusiasm, as told to do.

"Naw, she looks like she's gonna need at least a week Haley. She's sweaty and pretty flushed. And she's hot. _Real_ hot." Merle says into the phone nonchalantly, like everything is normal. She gasps a little, as his thumb finds her clit, and he starts rubbing. How can he be so calm? Isn't she doing _anything_ to him? It's driving her crazy, the fact that she's got him in such a situation, and he isn't showing any signs of being affected by what she's doing.

She can feel the pressure building at the base of her spine, knows it won't be long until she comes undone, and she swallows down a groan. Merle is still talking with Haley, and it sounds like she wants to come over later, probably to do exactly what Amy is doing now. She never knew she had a jealous streak until just recently, and right now its stabbing at her. 'Merle doesn't need you anymore!' she wants to scream at Haley through the phone. Now that Merle has given in, she feels a bit possessive, and so it's probably a good thing she won't be seeing Haley this week. She's likely to say something that she would regret later, and all she needs is a vindictive Haley to deal with at work.

"Kay girl. I'll see ya round. Don't worry, I'll take good care of her." Merle says finally, and he hits the end button on the handset. He sighs, and his lips curl up into a rare, genuine smile as his eyes rake up and down her body and she shivers. He reaches his free hand out, lazily almost, and strokes the skin between her breasts. It's a gentle touch, with something akin to tenderness in it. Which is dangerous, because this, whatever this is that they're doing, it can't be tender. It can't be special or loving or anything other than lustful. Because it will end, and they both know that they can't get attached. Emotions are forbidden unless they're lust or pleasure.

She shoots him a look, as baleful as she can manage, her fingers digging into his stomach slightly. He purses his lips for a minute, an odd look passing over his face and she makes the mistake of slowing to a stop, to try and dechiper it. But it's gone,as fast as it came, and his reaction is instantaneous.

"Did I say you could stop?" he says gruffly. "No I don't think I did. Punishment, lil' girl."

He chortles, pushing at her firmly until she's sliding off of him and he's standing up. its uncomfortable, the empty, unfinshed feeling and she feels rather exposed suddenly. Her face heats up.

Last night, after their first frantic time, they had continued, the sex somewhat tentative at first, and as they got more comfortable, they had thrown all caution to the wind. They had found out, by accident, that Amy had a certain spot on her body, under the small of her stomach. If he touched her there just right, she reverted into a babbling mess, moaning and writhing in pleasure so intense that it nearly hurt. And she'd do absolutely _anything_ , to make it stop. He had quickly devised a sort of game, complete with a point system. Amy had a feeling that he'd encountered a similar 'magic spot' on some other woman. He offered the idea up much too quickly for her to believe he had only just come up with it.

Basically, it was a dirty version of Simon Says. They each had divided the rest of their week equally, three days of the week as Simon, and what that person said was indisputable, from sunrise to sunset. If you did something without them saying you could, you were eligible for a punishment. If the punishment made you say the secret word or phrase, the Simon won a point. So depending on how good you were at listening, the Simon could gain a lot of points if you weren't careful. At the end of the week, whoever had the most points won, and could ask for whatever they wanted on the last day of the week; the last day before Andrea and Daryl got home.

Stupidly, she had said agreed, thinking that she could hold her own against Merle. She wasn't sure what she wanted if she won, but she had been sure she would think of something good. So what if he already knew about her sensitive spot? He wouldn't use it against her every time...he seems like a creative kind of guy, he would probably think of a hundred things different ways to try to make her say the secret word...right?

Wrong.

She was so very, _very_ wrong.

As it turns out Merle is _exactly_ that kind of guy, the kind who will play the same card a billion times if necessary. He doesn't like to lose. And even if that card is the same every time, even if it gets boring, using it constantly is no skin off his nose. Especially if it guarantees a win every time. Merle already had two points as a result and it was only 10am on the first day! She was beginning to suspect that his ruthlessness wasn't always simply an act. At times like this one apparently, he really seems to enjoy playing dirty.

"C'mere," he says, walking to the picture window in the living room. She follows him slowly, attempting to figure out just what he has in store for her. He stops her right in front of the window, which is currently covered, with a thick blue curtain. His knees bump the built-in bench that Andrea put in so Amy could read there on nice days.

This is the one window in the entire house that Andrea had insisted on hanging an opaque curtain. The rest had adjustable blinds and translucent curtains that flared prettily in the slightest breeze. There was a reason for that too; that reason was named Mrs. Larcrest. The only neighbour they actually had. For the most part, their little house was isolated on the edge of the woods, and they liked it that way. They didn't bother anyone, and no one bothered them.

Mrs. Larcrest was the exception to this. A bitter, old witch of a woman, with a nasty temper and a surprisingly foul vocabulary, she was the one fatal downside to living in Georgia. Daryl actually hated her, truly, legitimately hated her.

Actually, no one in the household was fond of her, and not even Amy could bring herself to like the crabby old hag, and that was saying something, because she liked just about everyone. Whenever there was a rap on the door, you could be sure it was Mrs. Larcrest, ready to complain about the smallest, most ridiculous things. She once blamed Daryl for her garden flowers being dug up by raccoons.

"You attract them. Riff-raff always attracts fucking pests. You're a dirty, redneck, racoon magnet." she had said primly, leaving Daryl standing there, jaw clenched tight with anger. Amy had been sure that had he been given the opportunity, he would've shot her with his crossbow. He still looks at it on it somewhat wistfully when anyone mentions the old hag.

Andrea had ordered this curtain with Mrs. Larcrest in mind, because on top of being exceedingly irritating, she was also exceedingly snoopy, and Andrea had caught her on several occasions peeking in their window during construction.

It's mid morning, so when Merle pulls the curtain aside, bright sun pours into the room, catching on dust motes and making them glow. Amy lets out an indignant gasp,shifting her hands immediately to cover up as much of herslef as possible, and steps back from the window. Merles first Simon Says of the day, had been that she'd have to walk around the entire day completely naked. She hadn't seen this as much of a challenge, but she hadn't expected this either. Mrs. Larcrest is sure to be home, it's way too early for her to be in town harassing the other townsfolk just yet. Damn Merle, just what is he thinking?

"Simon says drop yer hands and press yerself up to the window." Merle demands.

"What?!" Amy yelps, her eyes attempting to skewer him.

"C'mon lil' girl. If ya don't wanna you could always just give me another point...or ya could fight back. Make it interesting at least," he drawls, eyes glimmering. She stiffens, her jaw set in determination. She won't be giving him another point today. she promised herself, and she never goes back on a promise. Without a word, she drops her arms, and slowly walks to the window, squinting as the sun catches her full in the face. She sighs heavily, before kneeling on the bench and leaning forward. She shivers as goosebumps break out along her skin and her nipples harden as the cold window pane connects fully with the front of her body.

"Good. That's good," Merle says. "Simon says don't move a muscle jus' yet."

Amy can hear him leave the room behind her, his steps heavy on the stairs. She doesn't dare turn around, her eyes locked on Mrs. Larcrest's house, just visible through the trees. Maybe if she doesn't move, the old bag won't notice she's there should she glance out her front window. 

She doesn't know exactly how long Merle takes, but by the time he gets back, the front of her body is freezing, the cold seeped into her flesh, and she's shivering in earnest.

"A little cold are we?" Merle says cheerfully, and Amy frowns. Without warning, Merle is suddenly _right there_ , pressed up to her, her arms caught in his grip above her head. She inhales sharply. She can feel the warmth of his bare skin on her back, and it makes her want to sigh and lean into him, but she can't move because he hasn't told her she can yet. His cock is hard, pressing firmly against her butt, and she forgets that she's cold, and irritated as lust bites at her.

"Ya can move now baby doll," he breathes into her ear, and she immediately arches her back into him, pressing into his erection longingly. "Always so horny." Merle mutters in approval.

"Please?" she pleads softly, and Merle chuckles before giving her what she wants.

She doesn't even care that they could get caught, not as Merle thrusts himself up into her, pushing her up hard against the window to get a better angle. She cries out, and Merle bites at her neck. She's in such an awkward position, and it dawns on her that Merle is at an advantage, because he's in complete control. She can't even move properly to fight back.

That's the last coherent thing she remembers, as Merles hand snakes around to press the soft skin below her belly.

"Scream fer me," she hears him say. And she does. She moans and yelps, mewls and pleads, as his fingers dance along her stomach. Her head feels like it's filled with water, and its heavy, so heavy, pressed up against the glass. Her body is quivering, and every thrust of his cock inside her, makes her feel like she's about to explode. She wants to curse him for making her feel like this, and yet all she can do is praise him and beg for more. An orgasm rolls over her, making her scream his name, and Merle grunts and thrusts harder. She loses all track of time, consumed by the sensation of her skin sticking to the window, and Merles fingers massaging her stomach and clit in turns.

"Say it," Merle says hoarsely, licking at the skin under her ear. She cries out, as he lets her hands free and jerks her back for a minute to pinch her nipples. Her hands go downwards, to his hand at her pussy, and she presses it against her harder and shakes her head no. He presses her up to the glass again, and pounds into her. Her body is singing, and her toes curl as she bucks uselessly against the glass.

"Say it," she hears him say again, and again she shakes her head no. She absolutely refuses to give him this point.

Merle has the endurance of an olympic runner when it comes to holding out on an orgasm, but he has to be getting close to breaking, otherwise her wouldn't be so insistent. If she can just hold on until he comes, she'll be safe, have time for a breather, to recollect herself. She orgasms again, her muscles starting to ache as they clench and unclench, pleasure rippling down her spine. She's definetly going to feel this in the morning. Right now though, she doesn't care, too lost in sensation.

" _Say it, damn it!_ " Merle tries again, and she doesn't even bother with a response, panting hard and letting out soft mewls of pleasure instead. Merle thrusts one last time, and presses a hand into the small of her stomach in a last attempt to get her to say the word he wants to hear, but she bites her lip even as flashes of light burst before her eyes. She hears him grunt her name as he comes, and he stumbles back, bringing her with him, peeling her off the window before they collapse into a sweaty pile of limbs on the floor.

"Shit woman." Merle finally says, and crushes his lips to hers, running his tongue along the roof of her mouth. "Guess I lost that battle." he says when he breaks away for a deep breath.

"You're gonna lose the war too," she pants, and he considers her for a moment, that weird look crossing his face once more.

"Maybe I will," he says, finally slipping out of her with a wet, slick sound. She shudders, and watches him go, leaving her alone once again, on the living room floor.


	7. Brilliant Ideas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The chapter in which Amy has a brilliant idea

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter is late guys, it was my birthday on the 12th and i was celebrating all weekend!

Amy can damn near taste victory.

The week has flown by and today, the very last day of the challange, is her day as Simon. She's spent the last six days, fighting hard and playing as creatively as she could. At least it's been worth it, because now she and Merle are tied for points, and she has the advantage of a whole day left to get that one last, elusive point.

She stretches, glancing at Merles sleeping form and wonders what she can do today to get her way. Gingerly, she lays her head on his chest, listening to the steady thumping of his heart. It's amazing how fond she's grown of Merle in such a short amount of time. Sure, she liked him before all this happened, but if she's to be completely honest, it was mostly lust. Now though... now it's something more, something she's afraid to admit to even herself. They'd agreed that this wouldn't become anything after the week was up. She'd promised no tears, no complaints. And she never broke her promises, not if she could help it.

But she then again, she hadn't expected to _actually fall_ for Merle. He was a lot more than the gruff, uncaring person you first saw when you looked at him. He was funny. He was his own brand of sweet and thoughtful. He was fiercely competitive, and very creative. Charming. Clever. Merle was a lot like Daryl when you boiled down all the facts. A good guy, with a rough past. He may put on airs, try to convince you otherwise, but he couldn't hide it from her now. She had gotten a sneak peek of the inner Merle, and she really liked it, much to her dismay.

She runs a hand lightly through his hair, not enough to wake him up, but he does roll over and away from her hand. She smiles a bit, and slides off the bed, heading towards the bathroom. She needs a good hot shower to work out all the kinks. Besides, the shower is where she does some of her best thinking, and she has _a lot_ to think about.

She sighs as she fiddles with the water temperature; she's at a bit of a loss because honestly she's not sure of her next move. She doesn't have enough experience when compared to Merle. He has an extra 18 years on her, and he doesn't strike her as one who would wait to have sex. He probably lost his virginity when he was 15 or something. How can she compete with that?

She steps into the shower, letting the spray work its magic, relaxing her muscles. Her spine feels like rubber, a feeling that she's starting to associate with sex and Merle and she can't remember being this sore ever. But she supposes constant sex will do that. Merle is good at this. And she isn't. That's what the problem has been from the start, she thinks as she pours shampoo into her hand and runs her hands through her hair. She scrubs, pondering. The points she's won….maybe she should look at those. Maybe the key to winning is there.

The first one was a gift, Merle had given it to her, to 'motivate her' he had claimed, but she thought it more likely that he'd done it to tease her. Hopefully, he regreted it now. The second one was because of internet research really. It is simply amazing what one can do with their tongue. The third and fourth points were all luck. She had managed to outlast him both times; she had ordered him not to come before her.

Usually that was an impossible task, as he had the art of holding out on an orgasm down pat. If he had a résumé that detailed all his skills when it came to sex, she's sure that it would be at the top of the list, that's how ridiculously good at it he was. But sheer willpower…she had lots of that. She was stubborn. She had just thought about other things other than the overwhelming sensation of Merle inside her.

Once, she had even pictured Andrea and Daryl walking in on them, while they were doing the dirty on Andreas kitchen table and it instantly sobered her. She couldn't use that trick anymore though, because the first and only time she'd done it, the imagined expression on her big sisters face was so frightening that she couldn't bring herself to do it again.

Her last point, the fifth, had been the hardest to earn, and she was ridiculously proud that she had managed to get it out of him on his own turn. But that was three days ago, and since then they were at a bit of a stalemate. Merle had led in points early on, gaining two on day one, two on the second day and one yesterday. But he was stuck now that she'd somehow managed to learn to keep a level head when his hands brushed over the small of her stomach.

Her magic spot was broken, he had phrased it. Not exactly true, more like she has kind of built up a kind of immunity. He's overused it. She thinks it's probably because even when they weren't playing the game, they still had sex. Her cheeks colour as she remembers a rough cheek pressed to her ear.

"I love it when ya make those noises fer me.." God, the things that voice does to her! How is she gonna manage being around him when this is over? She squeezes her thighs together, a spark of desire unfolding, and she runs her hand down her body, one slipping between her legs. She brings her fingers up to examine the sticky substance, slick on her fingertips. Merle would lick it off her fingers, she knows he would.

What does…what does it taste like, she wonders and her face flames, her fingers hesitating just in front of her lips. 'No one needs to know,' a little voice in her head whispers…..and besides! Plenty of woman have probably done this same thing out of curiosity. Before she can argue herself out of it, she puts a finger in her mouth. At first, she tastes nothing, her tongue carefully probing the slippery texture. Then an odd sweetness blooms on the tip of her tongue. Bitter…sweet…a little bit salty, but it doesn't taste bad really. She licks her lips.

"You enjoyin that or do ya want some help baby doll?" She lets out a little scream and jumps a little, backing into the wall of the shower, and Merle laughs.

"Merle! What the hell!? You could've let me know you were there you asshole!" she screams, and her face flames even hotter. She can't believe he saw her doing that! How embarrassing! "Get out please," she says as disdainfully as she can, and Merle chuckles again.

"Ya sure? I could scratch that itch fer ya. Maybe rack myself up another point?" he says with amusement, and she gives him a cold glare.

"Not likely," she says again, but the anger is dying away. She can't stay mad at him if her life depended on it. Even now, the desire is returning, threatening to cut through what little irritation she is holding onto.

"Fine. Have it yer way." he says, not unkindly, and he closes the curtain. She lets her shoulders slump. That man… really bugs her sometimes. So why is she smiling? "Oh by the way," Merle, says flinging the curtain back again, which elicits another small yelp from her! God damn it! "I'm making breakfast. Ya want somethin in particular?" This takes her aback a little. He's making her breakfast?

"Uh…e-eggs and bacon…and a bagel?" she stutters out, and Merle smirks at her.

"Gonna cost ya," he says and she sighs. She knew this offer was too good to be true. What does he want? But before she can ask him just that, he grabs her arms in pulls her towards him, his lips meeting hers, softly. She feels her legs give a little wobble and she leans into him, the water running off her body, soaking into his shirt and leaving a rapidly growing wet patch. And then he's gone, leaving her half in the shower, half out, her skin prickling in the cold draft from the closing door.

Jesus.

When he does things like that, it almost feels normal, like they're in an actual relationship. She closes the curtain in a half daze, picks up the conditioner absently. Merle doesn't want a normal relationship. She knows that. But then he does something like that, something sweet and fleeting and her heart goes crazy. And then there are those indescribable looks on his face, there and gone so fast, that she doesn't have time to figure them out. What the hell has she gotten herself into with this man?! She presses her forehead to the wall tiles, feeling a bit sorry for herself.

She's sorry that this game they're playing is coming to an end.

But mostly, she feels sorry for Merle. What is he gonna do when someone finally catches him? Makes him want to stay? It probably won't be her, though it makes her heart ache to admit it. But really, what is Merle going to do when he realizes that this playboy lifestyle of his isn't good enough for the woman he chooses to settle down with? When he's forced to do normal things like…oh!

Her head snaps up. _That's it!_ _This_ is her answer to winning this game! She can't believe she didn't see it earlier! Something that Merle _can't_ do, soething that _she_ has more experience with than he does! Her lips turn up into a smile and she hurriedly goes through the rest of her shower routine. By the time she shuts off the water, she's so excited her body is nearly vibrating.

"The Holden girls really do love a good challenge," she says out loud, as she wipes away the fog on the bathroom mirror and turns on the fan to clear up the last curls of steam. The reflection in the mirror smiles back at her.

Yes. They certainly do.


	8. Corsets in Twilight Blue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The chapter in which Merle gets roped into things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am truly sorry that this chapter posting is so late. ive had alot of things to deal with these past few weeks, including a convention, so please dont string me up! enjoy this chapter instead!!!

"A date," Merle says incredulously. "You want me ta take you on a date?"

Amy smirks at him, chewing on a mouthful of bagel. She's so satisfied, it's almost feels unfair.

_Almost._

This is her brilliant idea. Merle may be an expert when it comes to sex, but she feels fairly confident that although he's had more women than she dares even try to count, he's probably never taken one of them out on a date. It's simply not his style. Judging by the look on his face, she's hit the target dead centre. He looks lost for words, knowing that as it's her turn to be Simon, he can't argue, or he could very well risk losing the game. And she knows by now that he hates to lose at anything.

"Yes, a date. Tonight. Do you need me to phrase it properly?" she says pleasantly, enjoying his obvious discomfort. She licks her lips. "Simon says, take me on a date tonight. Dinner and dancing." Merle huffs, and she has to laugh. He looks like a disgruntled toddler, whose just been told he can't have candy before bedtime. He grimaces at her, and she laughs even harder.

"It ain't that funny Amy," he says in a low, irritated voice. She waggles her eyebrows at him and chuckles good-naturedly .

"Actually, it is. You look so… I don't know…displeased. I wonder if that's what I looked like four days ago when I figured out you didn't mind using my "magic button" 15 billion times a day!" she says in a light tone. He grumbles, but he knows that there's nothing he can do.

She hadn't been too excited to find out that it wasn't beneath him to use a tried and trusted method to gain the upper hand. Thank god he had mostly used it during normal, no-game sex at night. He would have far more points if he had simply used it only during game hours, and now its much harder because shes built up a resistance, or at the very least, shes found the willpower to make it through.

Amy smiles at him again, and he sighs heavily.

"Fine. Dinner and dancing it is. But I ain't gonna give you a point easy angel face," he says with a grim determination, and excitement builds in her stomach.

She's actually really looking forward to this, probably much more than she should. She finishes up her bagel and gets up to put her dishes in the sink, turning on the water to rinse them clean. She doesn't flinch or jump when Merle circles his arms around her waist. He rests his chin on her shoulder, and sighs again. Amy wants to sigh as well. This feels so normal, comfortable, and she wishes more than anything that he wouldn't do this when he has no intention of letting it go anywhere further. It just makes her feelings towards him stronger.It's already hard to accept that this is going to end tomorrow.

She's going to make tonight count she decides, it doesn't even matter if she wins or not.

The day drags. She finds herself constantly looking at the clock, wishing for it to be time to get ready. She tries everything to distract herself. Reading, cleaning, flipping chanels on the TV. She doesn't bother with any Simon Says orders; she's saving all her energy for later. She even resorts to baking. She makes about 3 dozen chocolate chip cookies, Merle casually eating them almost as fast as she can make them.

In the end, they spend most of the afternoon watching old movies. Amy has a fondness for them, although she doesn't know why. Maybe it's the simplicity of them. Everything about them is clean-cut. Black and white. The bad guys are bad, the good guys are good. There's nothing complicated about the relationships. And there's always unequivocal love. At least in all the good ones there is. She envies those characters , having what she knows she can never have with the one person she wants to have it with most right now. She sighs a lot during the movies, ignoring the looks Merle gives her.

All in all, it's the most normal day they've ever spent together. By the time 6pm rolls around, she nearly vibrating she's so ready.

"I'm going to go grab a shower now," she says and getting up from the couch and stretching. Merle grunts, and she rolls her eyes. She wonders if he'll even get dressed properly or if she'll have to make it an order.

She showers in record time, and blow dries her hair, before borrowing Andreas curlers. If she's going out, she may as well do it right. She can't remember the last time she went out dancing. Probably when she still had friends that she hung out with regularly. She stops to really think about it, counting the years on her fingers.

She's nearly 22 now, so she graduated high school 5 years ago. And then she moved out to live with Andrea right after high-school. Wow, it really _has_ been awhile. She used to go all the time, sneak into the clubs with her friends. They always charmed the bouncers, flashing wide smiles in their borrowed short dresses and high heels. But soon after she graduated, she had focused her energy on college, on making something out of herself, and she hadn't had time for dancing and drinking. Andrea had become her only real friend. None of her so-called "bff's" from high school ever did so much as text her anymore, not that she was concerned in the slightest. She was better than frat parties and one night stands that she would regret the next morning.

She smiles wryly. Now she just plays kinky sex games with guys twice her age.

As the curlers set, she puts on a touch of make-up. Her theory has always been the less the better. A swipe of pale pink blush, a smudge of dark blue eyeliner to set off her eyes. A light coat of mascara. A coat of tinted chap stick, and she's ready to go. She smiles at the reflection in the mirror, easily recognizing the wide innocent features that she's inherited from her mother. Andreas face looks a bit more like their dad, lean and slightly angular, where as Amy and their mothers are a little more round, and soft.

Her smile slips.

This won't do at all. She's supposed to be going all out. She looks at the dress she's chosen, flung out on her bed. A flared, empire waist. Knee length with short sleeves in a dark turquoise colour. It's too safe. She curses, and goes to her closet with a sinking feeling. She flicks through the small assortment of dresses she has. None of these are what she's looking for. How could she not notice before? These clothes are safe, fit for regular guys. But she's not going out on a date with a regular guy. She's going out with Merle, an experienced sex fiend. If she goes out dressed like she would normally in this situation, she's not going to have any success with winning a point. Her frown deepens.

She needs something different, like the lingerie she went out and got the first time. She ponders, pacing back and forth. For a minutes she wishes Andrea was here. Here sister has better taste when it comes to this kind of stuff. She the definition of sophisticated and sexy… Amy stops. Andrea. A smile creeps along her face.

Andrea _has_ to have _something_ in her closet.

She wont even notice if Amy borrowed one dress and then returned it at a later time. She immediately goes to her sister's room, and tries the door handle. Locked. Not a problem. She scurries down to the kitchen, digs through the junk drawer and surfaces with the extra key, a small squeal of triumph escaping her lips.

She rushes back up the stairs and unlocks Andreas room, flicking the light switch on. Daryl and Andreas room is eerily empty looking. Daryl didn't have much stuff to begin with, and Andrea didn't bring any of her furniture with her from Florida, deciding to sell it instead. She hasn't had time to go shopping yet apparently. However, Amy knows that Andreas entire wardrobe did come to Georgia with them. Andrea had a walk in closet put in to accommodate it, much to Daryl's amusement. She flings open the closet doors and grins.

Thank you Andrea!

Amy doesn't waste any time, heading straight to the section at the back. She fingers the fabric as she sorts through what seems like a rainbow of dresses, in every style and hue. She ignores the lighter colours, looking instead for something darker. She debates. Red, or black? Red would definitely stand out in the crowd, but despite her intentions with this night out, she can't fight her natural tendencies. She doesn't like to be the centre of attention like that. She just doesn't command a room the way Andrea seems to do effortlessly.

Black it is then. She picks out a few that may be possible candidates. A simple strapless one that would hug what few curves she has, and a strapless slinky thing that would show off her legs. She's debating between the two, when a stray, black ribbon catches her eye. She picks out the hanger, and sucks in a quiet breath.

The dress is a dark blue, nearly black, the colour of a dark, clear summer night. It has a strapless corset bodice, with a slight flared skirt that looks like it would stop just above her knees. The ribbon that caught her eye earlier is loosely laced up the front.

Its perfect.

She lets out a soft sigh. Andrea is a little bigger than her, more curvaceous, and she has a bigger bust. This may not even stay up on her. Amy crosses her fingers mentally, and lets her towel hit the floor. She slide the dress off its hangar, and steps into it. Andrea must have bought this years ago, Amy thinks as she does up the laces. Shes never seen it make an appearance before, but its just what she needs now. It _is_ a little loose, but barely. She ties the laces into a bow and looks at herself in Andreas dresser mirror. She looks about 5 years older already. With the proper make-up, this could be exactly the thing she needs to tip the scales in her favour. She smiles at her reflection.

Merle isn't going to know what hit him.


	9. The Catcall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The chapter in which Amy may or may not have a little too much to drink.

Mountain City doesn't really have a club per say. A few weathered bars, and a pub, but it's not what Amy is aiming for, so she sweet talks Merle into taking her to Atlanta. To his credit he doesn't fight, and in fact almost seems to be looking forward to it. Maybe it's the dress. It seemed to be a fairly big motivator.

"Wow," was all Merle had said when she had walked down the stairs, his mouth slightly agape. The gape had quickly turned into a sly smile, and he'd twirled his finger around, signalling that he wanted her to do a little turn for him. She had obliged, twirling a few rotations, so the dress flared out, letting Merle get a sneak peek at her panties (lacy black boy shorts. Both comfortable and sexy.) He'd whistled low, and she had simply smirked.

"I haven't even put the shoes on yet," she teased.

"Well then yer gonna look pretty amazin if shoes can manage to improve this," he growled, pulling her close to run his hands up her hips.

"You're going to have to dig for something to match you know," she said playfully as she kissed his chin. Andthe amazing thing is that he _had_ , appearing 20 minutes later in a pair of clean jeans, and a slightly rumpled black dress shirt. He even dabbed cologne on, something spicy, and it took all her will power not to undress him and fuck him right there in the hallway. Merle had looked enthused for the first time since she suggested the date, a predatory smile on his lips that made her heart flutter.

 

Dinner had been a pleasantly small affair, Merle taking her to a tiny bistro. Not what she had originally wanted, but she let it go immediately when their food came. It was surprising for such a tiny place, radiating a 'Mom & Pop' sort of atmosphere, but the food was an _entirely_ different matter. It could have rivalled some of the fanciest restaurant food she'd ever had, and with both Andrea and her father being in fairly high paying professions, she's eaten a lot of expensive food.

Merle has been a perfect gentleman as well (so far), which both delights her, and raises her suspicions. He had held the door open for her, pulled out her seat, and had even ordered a bottle of wine. It was incredibly sweet, and she wonders if this is something he always does or is this something special? Something just for her? She can't lie, her whole body aches with wanting to believe that. But her head refuses to let her give into that train of wishful thinking, which is probably for the best.

Her food is delicious. She settled on a chicken and mushroom risotto, with a side order of salad. Merle, completely in character, orders a steak dinner. During dinner, they chit-chat easily about random things. He asks her if she's looking forward to starting school in a couple of months, which she is. She transferred to the University of Atlanta when Andrea told her she was moving. She could have stayed in Miami of course, continued going to school there, and moved in with a roommate. But the idea of not having Andrea around had made her uncomfortable.

She asks him about what he plans to do, now that he's out of jail. (He's actually been out for quite a while, but she wasn't truly invested in his plans until she got to know him like this.) She sips her wine, as he considers, his face becoming thoughtful.

"Dunno. Usually I'd just fuck off somewhere, tour through a random state, sellin here and there, sleepin with whatever women would have me," he says truthfully, and Amy pulls a face. Is that all he did before? No wonder he got into trouble so easily.

"What did you do before? I mean, when you graduated high school? You didn't have any plans for a career?"

"Hell no. I got my ass outta here as fast as I could. Joined the Army." he says nonchalantly, taking another bite of steak.

"You didn't go to post secondary?"

"Not in the common sense. Once I had served 4 years, they granted me a scholarship, and I took a bunch general courses that they offered men in the service. Wasn't much good at any of it, cept the psychology shit. Was interesting I guess, but I never finished."

"Well why don't you go back to school then? I'm sure you could finish what you started and get a degree or something. Become a social worker or something like that?" Amy points out, waving her fork at him. He snorts, as if he finds her comment completely out of context. But then a serious expression fills his facial features, and he looks at her, his blue eyes piercing.

" A social worker huh? Like the people who help troubled kids and shit?" He asks in a low voice, leaning forward in his chair. "Ya think I could?"

Amy nods, and finishes her wine. This is the most serious she's ever seen Merle. He was usually so detached when it came to things like this, preferring to evade such questions with a casual topic change. She'd seen him do it to Daryl a bunch of times, whenever Daryl brought up a serious topic. He said he wanted to encourage Merle to do something more than deal drugs and whore himself out. (Harsh, but fairly accurate, especially before Amy had got her claws into him. He'll probably convert back to this once their game is over, much to her displeasure.) 

Daryl really meant it when he said that it was expected of Merle to contribute to the household. He wasnt allowed to just mooch off of them forever. Amy had been to distracted with her seduction plans to really pay any attention before. But now it's glaring, the fact that Merle really _doesn't_ contribute at the present moment. He's just sort of...there. And she finds that she kind of wants to help. She's already opening her mouth to start suggesting things.

Merle however, deems the moment to have passed, and his face returns to its normal expression. He pours her another glass of wine, and tops his off as well.

"C'mon angel, finish up. I want ta see ya dance in that dress of yers."

And now that she's full, and the wine has left a nice buzz in her limbs, that's actually all she wants to do.

 

The Catcall, is a smaller club and she chose it mainly because it has a shorter line than the rest of the ones they drove past. She doesn't want to wait all night. And there seems to be a decent mix of older and younger people. She and Merle should be able to get in here easily.

They don't have to wait very long at all, probably about 10 minutes, and when they get in, the dance floor is already pretty packed. Perfect for what she has in mind. She laughs joyfully, and leans in to plant a kiss on Merles lips. He snakes a hand around her waist and holds her close for a minute, kissing her neck, and she can't help but notice several men give him envious looks. That makes her grin. She points to the dance floor, and Merle shakes his head, and motions to the bar. She nods an ok, and he orders a couple of shooters, pale amber liquid spilling over the lip of the shot glass. She doesn't even ask, knocking it back quickly, and then wishing she hadn't. The tequila burns its way down her throat and she makes a face. Merle just grins and orders another couple of shots, these ones a bright cherry red.

This time she sniffs it before she drinks it, a fruity smell making her think that it's probably Sour Puss or something similar. She licks the rim, and sure enough a sickeningly sweet flavour blooms on her tongue. She downs that too, and then pulls Merle away from the bar as he shoves some bills at the bartender.

She finds a darker corner, near a speaker that pounds out a bass beat from some rock song she doesn't recognize. She starts to sway her hips, her hands above her head, and she smiles at Merle coyly as he watches her. She rolls her hips, and beckons him closer with a crooked finger. He obliges and shuffles closer, his hands finding her hips. In her shoes, black heels, she's a full foot taller than usual, and the top of her head, which is usually just below his chin, is now at about his lips. For some reason this pleases her, and she clutches him closer, so his lips are in her hair. The alcohol is making an appearance now, making her limbs feel liquid and warm. Merles hands run up the bare skin of her thighs and she twirls away. She doesn't want him to touch her, not just yet. She has a plan to set in motion first. She leans in close, her lips brushing the shell of his ear.

"Simon says, no touching. Only watching." she whispers, and licks his ear. He drops his hands immediately and steps back slightly, one eyebrow cocked in surprise, and a small, curious grin on his face.

She stills for a moment, gazing at the crowd of dancers until she finds what she's looking for. A girl, about her age, standing alone against a wall. She's a brunette, similar in height to her, and in a slinky silver dress, that shines and pulses in time with the lights. Amy smiles, and sends Merle off to the bar to get more drinks, holding up three fingers. He shrugs, but goes off without argument.

She takes a deep breath, and approaches the girl.

"Hey!" she yells over the music, and the girl waves and smiles at her, unsure. She points to the bathroom, vaguely gestures at her ears and the girls follows her reluctantly. It's loud in the bathroom too, but more manageable. At least she can hear. "Hi, my name is Amy," she starts off, a friendly smile on her face.

"Michelle," she offers cautuiously, and Amy wastes no time. As it turns out, Michelle was here with a group of friends, but they vanished on her. They were her ride home too, and she is now waiting for them to call her.

Perfect.

"Can I ask you a favour while you're waiting?" Amy asks sweetly, and Michelle just looks at her. "You see, I'm kind of playing this game with my boyfriend," she says, a shiver running down her spine at the term. It feels beyond weird to use that word in reference to Merle. 

She roughly clarifies the Simon Says game, and explains what she wants to do.

"I basically want to show him what he can't have. But I'm wary about using a guy to do it. There's no promise that he wouldn't knock out another guy for touching me, but a girl…"she trails off, letting Michelle put two and two together. "Would you be willing to help me out? I just need one more point to win, and I promise if you want to stop at any time, you totally can!"

Michelle thinks for a minute, than looks at her, giving her a once over. Amy resists the urge to make puppy-dog eyes at her, though it turns out she doesn't need to anyways. Michelle's face breaks out into a giant grin.

"Sure! Why the hell not?"

"Oh my god, I love you!" Amy squeals, gathering the other girl into a hug. Michelle laughs, and they return to the dance floor. Merle is standing at a table, nearby where they were when he went off to get drinks. Michelle's presence makes him raise his eyebrows again, but he doesn't say anything. Just offers them more shots, which Amy downs again without even analyzing. It burns less than the first one, and she can feel it heat her cheeks. She pulls Michelle close, and starts to dance, their limbs tangling together. Merle looks amused and hungry at the same time, licking his lips in a predatory fashion. Amy can't help but smile.

 

Somewhere amongst the haze of alcohol and music, she loses track of where exactly, her plan goes a little awry. Dancing turns into grinding, and giggles turn into tongues. Too many drinks, Amy thinks briefly, but she could probably care less. There's somebody warm against her, leg pressed between her thighs tantalizingly, and she can't think of anything clearly, the pressure of lips on her shoulder and neck steasling focus. Her hands move on their own, one reaching up to fist in soft brown curls, the other snaking under the hem of Michelle's silvery dress. She lets out a soft little pants, and she's just about to sneak her hand higher up Michelle's thigh when a strong hand grips her shoulder.

Merle.

She may be drunk and distracted, but a little voice in the back of her head crows in triumph, and her lips form words before she can think them through.

"Simon said no touching!" she slurs, and steps away from Michelle, who leans against the wall, watching them through half lidded eyes. "Punishment," she breathes into Merles ear.

"C'mon Amy, yer drunk. I think we should get you home," he says in a serious tone that is so very unlike him that all Amy can do is laugh as she pushes him against the wall beside Michelle.

"No! I said no touching, and you _touched me_! Punishment, punishment, punishment!" she chants, and kisses him hard on the lips. Her hands stray downwards, and find his cock beneath the denim of his jeans. She rubs her hand over the hardened bulge, and she breaks away from his lips. "Oh Merle! Naughty, naughty! You're already hard! Did watching me and Michelle make you horny?" she purrs, and her fingers fumble to unzip his jeans. She forces a hand in, and her eyes get big. She looks at Merle through her lashes, a seductive smile sliding onto her face.

"No underwear hmm? How _convenient_ for me…" she says, and she swears Merle gets nervous for just a moment, looking over at Michelle, and scanning the room around them. She wraps her hand around him, and gives him a tug. He jumps, his eyes darkening noticeably, before he very subtly pulls her hand out of his pants and zips them up. It looks like it takes him a fair amount of effort, licking his lips absetly, his eyebrow knitting together in a frown.

"Alright, we're goin ok? Both of you," he says, his tone brooking no argument. Amy laughs again, and grabs a hold of Michelle's hand, tugging her new friend close. Merle leads them out of the club, and into the cool air outside. She and Michelle follow close behind him, teetering in their heels. He piles them into the truck, where she and Michelle immediately pick up where they left off, hands all over each other without hesitation. Merle exhales in frustration.

"Where do ya live Michelle?" he demands, and after pulling her and Amy apart a couple of times, she finally manages to choke out an address. Again, Merle huffs in displeasure, but he puts the truck into motion and leaves them be, even as their dresses get pushed up higher and higher. It turns out that she doesn't live too far away, in an apartment building with a fountain in the front. Amy sighs sadly. They were just starting to unlace her corset too. She and Merle hand off Michelle to an elderly concierge behind the front desk, who seems to know her. He promises he'll see she gets home safely, and thanks them. Amy pouts when Merle won't let her kiss Michelle goodbye.

She doesn't remember much else after that, the drive home going by in a blur.

She remembers asking Merle is he should be driving, to which he replies tartly, that he stopped drinking alcohol after the second round of shots with Michelle. She also remembers attempting (several times) to fit in his "punishment", zipping open jeans and trying to give Merle a blow job while he drove. He wasn't too enthused about that, which struck her as odd, even in her extremely inebriated state. Everything after that is a blur of trees and stairs and blankets being tucked around her shoulders.

And one last thing, that stands out in crystal clarity against the entirety of the night. A soft kiss on her forehead, as her eyes got too heavy to keep open, and a warm breath against her cheek, as softly whispered words fell onto the pillow beside her ear.

"I give up… ya win Amy."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M REALLY SORRY THAT I HAVEN'T BEEN POSTING REGULARILY, THERE'S NO EXCUSE AND I'M JUST REALLY SORRY.


End file.
